


Crying Out

by UchiHime



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Character Death, M/M, Mpreg, Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:29:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UchiHime/pseuds/UchiHime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something wrong with Harry Potter. How is it Severus' fault and how can he help?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crying Out

There was something wrong with Harry Potter.

For the past three or so weeks there had been something off about the boy. He was more silent, more distant. He smiled less and brooded more. You rarely ever saw him smiling and laughing with his little friends. He jumped at his own shadow and shrunk away from the slightest touch. His eyes had lost their shine or else shined with a wild fear or madness.

It was obvious he was trying to hide whatever was wrong, but Severus could see it. He could see the boy was frightened, broken, and alone. He just couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong with him.

* * *

 

Harry loved flying.

There was something about being high above the ground, soaring above all the confines of the world that invigorated him. It filled him with life and swept away all his cares. It granted him freedom that he had always yearned for. Nothing could touch him. Nothing mattered. Just him, his broom, the wind in his face, and not a care in the world.

Up here he was invincible. He ruled the sky. He made his own laws. He did what he pleased and no one could tell him different. This was his domain. His kingdom. His only haven. The rules of the ground didn't apply up here. He didn't have to be silent. He didn't have to pretend. He could take off his mask and let his true self show. He could scream until his lungs were sore. He could curse the heavens for all they are worth. He could cry until no tears were left to fall. He could show his hurt. If he flew fast enough and far enough, maybe he would never have to come back. Maybe he could escape. Maybe-

"Potter!"

Harry looked to the ground and realized that dreams were for the living and he was among the dead.

* * *

"Oh my god, Harry! What happened to you?"

Harry tried to push past Hermione and make it to his dorm before he collapsed, but the bushy haired brunette was having none of that.

"I fell." A weak excuse.

"Fell? Into someone's fist?"

"No. Down the stairs."

"Really, Harry, do you think I'm going to buy that? This is the third time in as many weeks you've come back here looking as if you've had a bad run in with the Whomping Willow.

"Hermione, don't, please," Harry pleaded.

"I'm worried about you, Harry."

"I said don't, Hermione! Just drop it, please."

"Harry-"

Harry didn't listen as he turned and rushed out of the Common Room, trying not to wince at the pain that shot through his body with the sudden movement. He didn't have time for this. He lacked both the patience and the desire to sit there while Hermione attempted to weasel information out of him. Like she really cared, anyway. No one cared. No one ever cared. They wouldn't understand anyway. They couldn't. It was not for them to understand. This was his problem. His burden to bear. His secret to keep. No one else could ever understand. No one else could know.

How would they respond if they knew? If they knew everything he was being put through? The things he did? The things done to him. No! They didn't need to know.

For some reason it was his heart hurting the most.

* * *

Severus knew he needed to do something about Potter, and he needed to do it soon.

The boy was on a steep decline into self-destruction; that was obvious to all who cared enough to look. He was being even more introverted than ever before. He was pushing his friends away. He was jumpy. His spell work was getting sloppier. And then there were the bruises.

It would have been a simple task to stop in the Hospital Wing and have Poppy take care of the odd bumps and bruises, unless one didn't want the Matron to know. But, then why was it any better walking around for the entire school to see the wounds? The first time Potter had walked into his class with a bruised cheek, Severus had assumed the boy had gotten into it with someone or else hurt himself during one of his foolish act of heroism. But not two days later, Potter had both a black eye and a split lip, as well as a slight limp. That's when Severus realized there could be more to the story than simple Gryffindor foolery. Since then, Severus had been keeping a closer eye on the boy and had found evidence of even more abuse not so easily visible.

But there really wasn't anything Severus could do. If Potter needed help he could talk to his head of house, or the headmaster for that matter. It really wasn't his problem.

Before his very eyes, Severus watched as Potter was hit by a jinx he could have easily guarded against under any other circumstances, and he realized this was very much his problem.

* * *

"Potter, stay. I need to speak to you."

Harry looked up in surprise when Professor Snape singled him out. He gave a confused shrug to Ron and Hermione, before waving them away and going to see what the Potions Master turned DADA Professor wanted.

The last student left the class and Snape waved the door closed with his wand before settling his dark gaze onto Harry. "Potter, I am not going to even presume to know what is going on with you, nor am I going to play at caring. Just know I expect you to get you act together and soon, or else the Headmaster will be informed of your going-ons. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry mumbled, a hint of dread seeping into his voice.

"Good. There are potions and balms you can use to take care of yourself. I am sure Professor Slughorn would be more than happy to grant you a few if you asked. Come into my class again looking as if you'd just been beaten by a bludger and we will have problems. That is all."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you." Harry turned to leave, but before he could get out of the classroom Snape called his name again.

"Potter, sometimes silence does more harm than good. I may not be the most... vocal or caring person, but I am good at listening. And, if you allowed me to, I could be of some help."

Harry's breath caught in his chest at the obvious offer from Professor Snape. He had been positive the former Potions Professor hated him. Not that it mattered, he would never be able to take the man up on his offer. "Thank you, Professor."

* * *

"What did Snape want with you, Potter?"

"N-nothing. He just told me to get my act together or he'll tell the Headmaster."

"You didn't tell him, did you? About us?" The question oozed venom and scared Harry to no ends.

"N-no. No, I didn't."

A sharp smack reverberated throughout the room. Harry's cheek stung and his head snapped back with the force of the blow. "Don't lie to me, Potter! What did you tell him?"

"I didn't tell him anything, I swear." Tears filled Harry's frightened green eyes, pleading for the other to believe him.

"You better not have. Or else you know what will happen."

Harry said nothing, but a frightened whimper escaped his lips as a hand gently stroked his bruised cheek.

"You poor boy. My poor boy." There was a note of caring and concern that had been absent in the voice before, and that scared Harry a million times more than the venom that had been in it. "You're hurt. Let me make it better."

Soft lips pressed against his cheek, before shifting to his lips. Harry knew better than to resist; he parted his lips immediately and tentatively kissed back. A warm tongue caressed his and mapped out every corner of his mouth. Then, suddenly a hard fist hit sharply against his diaphragm and knocked all the wind out of him.

Harry collapsed to the floor gasping for air, his green eyes staring terrified at the person standing over him. A sharp kick collided with his ribs and Harry coughed and wheezed for air.

"Get up," the other ordered and Harry moved as quickly as he could to get back to he feet. "You need a lesson to remind you who you belong to. Strip." Clumsily Harry tried to remove his clothes. "Faster." Harry got out of his clothes as fast as he could. "Good boy. So beautiful. My beautiful boy."

The heavy scrutinizing gaze on his made Harry ashamed of being in his own skin.

* * *

Severus hated doing rounds.

There was better things he could do with his time than patrolling the halls looking for snotty nosed children out of bed after hours; things like plotting how to best terrify Hufflepuff first years. He for sure did not want to spend his time walking in on snogging couples, or the occasional couple doing more heated things than snogging. He did not find the sex lives of his students to be the least be entertaining.

With his usual scowl in place, Severus turned the corner of a seventh floor corridor and stopped dead in his tracks. "Potter, is that you?"

To say that Potter looked as if he'd just gotten the life beaten out of him would be a gross understatement. The boy was barely able to remain standing, the wall next to him was supporting the majority of his weight. His right eye was swollen shut and his left arm dangled limply at his side. Upon hearing Severus' voice, Potter looked up in surprise that quickly melted into fear as he glanced around the hall as if waiting for someone to slink out of the shadows and grab him.

"Professor," Potter finally said, his voice was raspy as if he'd just done a great deal of screaming--and judging by the look of him he might had been.

"What in Merlin's name happened to you, Potter?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are." Without thought, Severus reached out to grab the boy, but Harry shrunk away from the touch like a frightened kitten and fell to the ground pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Don't touch me!" There was a moment of intense silence before Potter finally looked up with tired green eyes. "I'm fine , Professor, really. I just, uh, had a bad run in with the Whomping Willow."

Severus wasn't an idiot. He knew when he was being lied to, especially when it came to his students. And it was obvious Potter had just pulled that excuse out of his arse. "Really, Potter, and how exactly did the Whomping Willow get inside a seventh floor corridor?"

Potter's eyes narrowed into a cold glare. "Just leave me alone," he hissed at Severus. "You're not helping me at all. Singling me out. Offering help. This is  _your_  fault in the first place! I'll do better if you just never talk to me again. Go ahead and take points for me being out after curfew, but then Leave Me Alone!"

Potter attempted to get to his feet, most likely to storm off angry and over dramatically, but he couldn't quite make his weakened body support him and ended up collapsing back to the floor with a pained whimper. If you asked Severus later, he wouldn't be able to explain what prompted his actions. Probably it was the late hour and his annoyance at Potter's stubbornness- whatever the reason, Severus cast a  _Stupefy_  on the boy,  _Disillusioned_  them both, and floated Potter down to his private quarters.

* * *

Harry woke from a Potion's induced slumber in unfamiliar territory, with a strange fluffiness filling his head, and a pleasant scent teasing his nose. It took a moment for him to dispel the fluffiness- which he realized came from whatever potion was used to knock him out- and figure out what was going on. His senses came to him slowly: he realized he was laying on a soft bed with satin sheets, the scent teasing his knows were coming from said sheets, the room around him was lit dimly by a single sconce, the room was cozy and empty save him and- suddenly everything that happened came back to him and he realized the weight of his situation.

Harry sat bolt upright in the bed, only to let out a string of oaths when the action caused a wave of vertigo to overtake him. He put that out of his mind and continued cursing. That bastard.

"You're awake, good." It was a glare that could kill that Harry set unto his DADA professor. "You've been out for the better part of five hours; the potion should have only knocked you out for two. Though I suppose you would be tired after the abuse your body has been through." Snape completely ignored the icy glare resting on him as he sat straight up in his chair and fixed Harry with a hard look of his own. "Tell me, Potter, how did the Whomping Willow give you bruises around your neck that remarkably like hand prints?"

Harry didn't answer, but continued to glare at the man. Snape had no idea how much damage he had just caused and Harry would be damned if he added to his own coming punishment.

"Are you going to tell me the truth now, Potter. Because I can assume most of it; amazing what a simple Diagnostic Charm can tell you."

Harry spoke before his brain had the chance to tell him doing so would be foolish. "This is your fault," he accused the Potion's Master.

"Really?" Snape asked, reclining in his seat. "How?"

"You singled me out," Harry explained. "You're supposed to hate me. You're not supposed speak to me unless it's to point out my stupidity or to punish me. But you singled me out, and held me after class for no reason. I'll die if anyone finds out I'm here with you. He'll really kill me this time, and that'll be your fault, too."

"Potter, this has been going on well before I held you after class. If memory serves, this was the very reason I singled you out in the first place."

"But he was so angry." Harry's eyes took on a terrified gleam. "He thought I might have told you something. He was angry and got carried away."

"Who is 'he', Potter?"

Harry turned insulted eyes onto Snape as if the Potion's Master was out of his mind. "He was this angry after I swore to him I didn't tell you anything. How angry do you think he'll be if I do tell you something. No. I can't talk to you. I swore never to speak to you again."

"Potter, this could all end if you just tell me who he is. What he's done to you will get him kicked out of this school, if not locked in Azkaban for the rest of his life."

Harry wasn't going to answer him. He'd be a fool to do so. Didn't Snape realize there was nothing he could so to stop  _him_. No one could stop him. Nothing could be done. This was Harry's fate. His punishment. His hell to live.

* * *

"Harry, where have you been? Ron said you didn't come back to the dorm last night."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said with his best smile in place, "I got distracted with a few things, and before I knew it, it was morning."

"Where were you?" Harry didn't know whether to be angry with his friend for being so nosy, or grateful that she actually cared enough to meddle.

He shrugged at her question. "Around."

Hermione looked as if she wanted more of an answer than that, but correctly assumed she wouldn't get one, so decided not to press the issue. "You look- uh- well," she said instead. Harry knew she meant he didn't look as banged up as he usually did as of late- Snape had healed all his wounds. To her that was a good thing, but Harry knew it only meant more trouble soon to come.

He didn't wear his bumps and bruises because he liked to, but because he had no other choice. They were his markings. The signs that showed the whole world the level Harry had been lowered to: a punching bag, a slave, and a common whore. The last time he'd treated his cuts, he'd been beaten within an inch of his life as the result; though that was back during the time where the beatings were contained to areas no one could see. Only recently had the violence escalated to the point where his face, arms, legs, neck, etc. were targets. Suffice it to say, it was not longer possible to hide the truth, but he could still lie about it.

He knew he was going to be punished for having his wounds treated, even though he hadn't asked for the treatment- Snape had done it after dosing him up with Potions that knocked him on his ass. The stupid git thought he was  _helping_. Harry would be lucky if he could limp away from his punishment alive.

Snape didn't realize how many of his punishments centered around him. All because Harry felt for the Potion's Master turned DADA professor what he couldn't for-

* * *

Severus didn't know what to think when Harry entered the DADA classroom on Monday morning; all the treating he had done to the boy's wounds Friday night had been undone in the most gruesome of ways.

Harry's split lip and black eye were small wounds compared to what Severus' imagined lay beneath the bloody bandage on his left cheek. That said nothing for the bruises crawling up his neck, just barely visible over the Gryffindor scarf he had tried to hide them beneath. Then there was the fact he was holding his wand awkwardly in his left hand, because his bandaged right one was completely useless- even though he seemed to be having a hard time just lifting his left arm. It looked as if something had quite literally chewed him up and spit him out. And yet there was an obviously fake smile on the boy's face as he told his friends and classmates the even more obvious lie about sneaking into the Forbidden Forest and being attacked by a plethora of wild animals.

Severus kept his usual sneer in place as he acted as if he didn't notice Harry's condition. Inside he wondered if this too was his fault. Had whoever was doing this to the boy learned of Harry being in Severus' rooms? Or was this just the result of the initial injuries being healed?

He hadn't learned much from Harry Friday night, but he had learned that whoever was behind this didn't like Harry so much as looking at Severus too long.

" _I'll be ok if you just go away,"_  Harry had said.  _"He gets angry when I'm near you; when I speak about you. He says I let my gaze linger on you too long. He says there's too much affection in my voice when I talk about you. He says you hate me and I should just get over you and leave you alone."_

Severus hadn't known what to say at that statement. Harry had admitted to loving him so easily it made no sense. If Harry loved him, then why wouldn't he allow his help? He had asked the boy that very question and Harry had looked up at him with eyes that reflected a broken soul and said simply,  _"No one can help me."_

Severus not going to accept that answer. He may not love Harry, at least he didn't think he did- he had never been good at exploring his emotions though he did know he didn't hate the boy- but Harry was his student and thus Severus was under obligation to help him in he needed help.

Inwardly he wondered when he had started thinking of Potter as Harry...

* * *

"Potter, do not forget your detention this evening, 8 o'clock."

Harry shot a look at Snape as if the man had grown an extra head. He had not done anything to warrant detention, and yet the DADA professor spoke as if this was something they had discussed before. Of course! This had to be an excuse to get Harry alone so they could speak without risk of Harry getting further trouble.

Schooling his features into what he hoped was a convincing sneer, he grumbled something unintelligible under his breath that should pass for displeasure at the idea of detention with Snarky Snape.

* * *

8 o'clock that evening brought Harry to the DADA classroom for "detention" with Snape. The moment he walked into the class, the door slammed closed and sealed behind him; startling Harry and putting him on edge- doors slamming closed and locking usually didn't mean good things were about to happen to him.

Snape must have noticed his fear because he softened the hard look on his face and said, "Relax, Potter, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why am I here?" Harry asked hesitantly, trying to push away his remaining tendrils of fear; he knew Snape wouldn't hurt him, but his mind was so accustomed to being terrified he couldn't help it.

Snape stood from his desk and walked slowly towards Harry. "Why was he so angry?" the Potion's Master asked, raising a hand to Harry's cheek. Harry flinched away from the movement, but recovered by relaxing into the gentle caress.

"He wasn't happy with me." Harry knew the statement was rather redundant, so he added, "You healed me last time. He wasn't pleased. He likes me wearing his bruises. They're his markings. His sign of ownership."

"So this was my fault." Harry had never seen such a pained look in Snape's midnight eyes. It broke his heart.

"Don't blame yourself," he begged. He didn't like knowing he was causing that pain to show in his love's eyes.

"But it is my fault." Snape sighed and removed his hand from Harry's cheek. "I don't know what to do."

"It's ok. All I have to do is stop loving you. He wouldn't be so angry if I didn't love you."

"But- I don't want you to stop loving me, Harry."

* * *

Severus wasn't so sure about the intelligence in having an affair with a student. But Harry wasn't just a student. He was hardened warrior. He was a soldier. He was the bravest person Severus had ever met. He was gorgeous and filled with such light. He brought joy to Severus days. He was beaten, but not broken. He was hurting, but still living. He was so innocent, but he had been forced to grow up so fast. His laughter made Severus laugh. His pain made Severus hurt. His smiles made Severus smile. His tears made Severus cry. His love made Severus love. He changed Severus' life. He touched him in ways no one else had. He knew their affair could only end badly if anyone learned of it, but Severus didn't care anymore. His heart broke every time his little lover came to him battered and not allowed repair. He wished he could take Harry's pain away, but Harry still wouldn't tell him who was behind this. It made him so angry that someone would hurt his sweet boy like this. He just wanted to help.

"Why are you protecting him!" Severus yelled at Harry. The teen had come to him with his body once again riddled with injuries and Severus had patched him up as much as he was allowed to. He pressed for Harry to tell him who was behind this, but the Gryffindor wouldn't tell him. Severus' anger had gotten away from him without him meaning it to.

"I'm not protecting him!" Harry yelled back. "I'm protecting myself."

"How is this protecting yourself? You come to me beaten within an inch of your life and claim self-preservation. You are truly a fool if you think  _this_  is protecting yourself."

"I'm alive aren't I? What does it matter how beat up I am if I'm alive?"

"This time! You're alive this time! What's to say about next time! What's to say he has a bad day and takes it out on you? What's to say he hits you a little too hard or pushes you a little too far! How long will you remain alive in a situation like this?"

"That's not going to happen!"

"How do you know?"

"I just do! Please, Severus, drop it. I don't want to fight with you. I love you too much to fight with you. Just drop it."

"It's because I love you that I refuse to drop it! I've let this go on too long! Harry, I'm terrified that one day you won't be able to come back to me. I'm so scared that one day he will kill you. Just tell me who it is."

"I can't! I'm sorry, I can't."

"Why not!"

"Because I brought this onto myself. It's my fault that I ended up like this."

"What do you mean you brought it on yourself?" Harry didn't say anything. "Harry, what do you mean?" Severus had never wanted so much to grab the boy and shake him until he got sense enough to answer him.

"I- I got to go." Harry got up and made towards the door.

"Harry," Severus called before the boy could leave, "I don't think- I don't think my nerves can handle much more of this. When you leave this time, don't come back."

* * *

"Potter? Oh, Potter, my poor poor boy. What's wrong, my poor boy."

Harry didn't even have the strength to flinch away from the other's touch. There was nothing that could be done to his physical body that could hurt more than the pain he was already feeling inside. Severus had broken up with him. He had left him. Harry needed him, but he didn't want him anymore. What was he going to do now? He had needed Severus so much. He had needed the strength the other gave him. He needed the man's patience and his cryptic humor. He just needed to know someone actually loved him. What was he going to do without him.

A sob wrack through his already hurting body.

"Tell me what's wrong. You poor poor boy. Tell me what's wrong. I'll make you feel better." Harry ignored the voice and the deceptively soothing hand rubbing his back. He couldn't ignore the sharp slap that fell across his cheek. "Answer me when I speak to you!" The other was fuming, he hated being ignored.

"He broke up with me," Harry admitted, his brain not even registering the words he was saying, only the pain ripping his heart apart mattered. "Severus broke up with me."

"Severus? Snape! You were with him!" Harry was numb to the slap that hit his cheek. "I told you to stay away from him! You little shit! Did you tell him about us? Did you!"

Harry didn't speak. His brain stopped registering the words being yelled at him. He could no longer feel the pain being dealt to his physical body. He didn't care anymore. What was he going to do now that Severus didn't love him anymore? What was he going to do?

* * *

Severus had regretted his words the moment he's spoken them, but his pride wouldn't let him take them back. Oh how he wished he had banished that foolish pride.

Hermione Granger was sobbing so hard she needed to lean on the Weasley for support. The Weasley girl wasn't holding up much better than her. The Weasley boy was completely silent, numb, not moving, or blinking. It was as if he brain hadn't even registered the situation yet.

Minerva McGonagall was weeping into a handkerchief. Dumbledore wasn't crying, but there was definitely no sparkle in his blue eyes. Poppy was only faring slightly better that Minerva as she forced herself to explain the situation.

"-three broken ribs, and both of his lungs were punctured. Bruising around his necks shows signs of at least attempted asphyxiation. His skull was literally bashed open. His body- there was evidence of abuse taken place over a long period of time, at least since the beginning of the term. With the amount of damage, it's hard to determine the exact cause of death, but the reason his magic didn't help was because it was rushing to protect the fetus. Unfortunately-"

"Fetus?" Severus repeated ratherdumbly. His mind was foggy and seemed incapable of processing all the information being given to him.

"Yes, Mr. Potter was three weeks pregnant."

"Three weeks?" His affair with Harry had been going on for nearly two months. It could have been his. Harry could have been pregnant with his child. He could have been a father. He and Harry could have had- his brain seemed to finally register the situation at that point and all he could think was "My fault." He didn't even realize he was speaking out loud. The words fell unbeckoned from his lips. Tears fell unheeded from his eyes. "My fault. My fault. All my fault. I told him not to come back. It's all my fault." The strength left Severus' body and he collapsed to his knees. Sobs tore painfully from his body. He was nearing the point of hysteria and all he could think was "I told him not to come back."


End file.
